Artful Cards

“Gambling I don’t ’old with,” said the night-watchman, pursing his lips. “There’s gamblers and gamblers. There’s people like myself as does it now and then out of good-nature to oblige, and there’s people like that squint-eyed, ginger-whiskered mate on the Queen Mary. If he ’ad spent as much time learning good manners as he ’as learning the three-card trick, it would ha’ been better for both of us. Especially me.

“He ain’t the only one. I remember teaching draughts to a man I met one evening. He was a born fool to look at, and ’e looked just the same when ’e bid me ‘Good night’ with seven-and-six o’ mine in ’is pocket. I ’eard arterwards that he could do anything with draughts except make ’em speak.

“Most sailormen like a bit of a flutter. One chap I knew used to spend all his time ashore backing ’orses. When ’e lost, ’e lost, and when he won the bookie used to get lost. And the only time he did get his winnings he got fourteen days for the way ’e spent ’em.

“I remember one time when old Sam Small got a perfeck craze for playing cards. His idea was to make some money for ’is old age, and, instead of going out and enjoying ’imself with Ginger Dick and Peter Russet, he sat all day in the bedroom being taught by a young professional sharper ’e met in the Three Widders. He even learnt ’ow to do the three-card trick—arter a fashion—and came round to show me one evening. We played for ha’pennies at fust, and I lost seven right off. Then we played for bobs, and it seemed as if I couldn’t lose. I never see anybody so puzzled as Sam was, and then ’e turned round and said he’d been doing it all wrong, and asked for ’is money back. I ’ad to be firm with ’im—for his own sake.

“A man never knows ’is best friends. If he’d kept on playing cards with me it would ha’ been better for both of us; instead o’ that, he preferred to let strangers win ’is money. He used to take ’em to his bedroom, and one night Ginger couldn’t get to bed because three or four of ’em had ’ad it for a card-table and spilt a can of beer in it.

“He could have ’ad two beds next night, ’cos to their surprise Sam didn’t come ’ome. He was still missing when they went out to brekfuss next morning, and by the time arternoon came Ginger began to feel uneasy about ’im.

“‘Mark my words,’ he ses to Peter Russet, ‘he’s been and gorn and got into some trouble.’

“‘Any fool could see that,’ ses Peter. ‘’Ow much money ’ad he got on ’im? Besides the eight quid you are minding for ’im?’

“Ginger shook his ’ead. ‘It’s my belief he’s been made away with,’ he ses, jingling the money in his trowsis-pocket. ‘It all comes of ’im thinking he can play cards.’

“‘P’r’aps I’d better mind ’arf of the money, in case you get robbed,’ ses Peter.

“Ginger didn’t hear ’im. He was too busy thinking about pore Sam. By the time twelve o’clock came, and no Sam, they felt certain that something had ’appened to ’im, and Ginger kept Peter awake ’arf the night talking to ’im about the ’appy times the three of them had ’ad together.

“‘I suppose we must go out and try and eat something,’ he ses next morning, shaking his ’ead.

“‘I s’pose so,’ ses Peter, very sorrowful; ‘but it’s wasting good money.’

“They went downstairs very slow, and opened the door just as Sam’s friend wot taught ’im ’ow to play cards knocked on it. Sharp-faced young chap ’e was, with ’is eyes ’arf-closed and a fag stuck in the corner of ’is mouth.

“‘’Ullo, Ginger,’ he ses, nodding.

“‘Wot do you want?’ ses Ginger, sniffing at ’im.

“‘I’ve got a letter for you,’ he ses.

“Ginger held out ’is ’and for it and, arter speaking sharp to Peter Russet about good manners, stood reading it as though he couldn’t believe ’is eyesight.

“‘It’s from Sam,’ he ses, at last. ‘He’s lost all ’is money at cards, as I knew ’e would; and ’e wants me to send ’im five quid.’

“‘Wot ’e owes,’ ses the young chap.

“‘He can go on owing it, then,’ ses Ginger, very firm. ‘If ’e wants ’is five quid let ’im come and fetch it.’

“‘He can’t,’ ses the young chap.

“‘Can’t? Why not?’ ses Ginger, turning on ’im.

“‘He’s lost other things besides money,’ ses the chap. ‘He played the last two hands in ’is shirt and cap, and ’e can’t come ’ome in them. ’Ow would you like it yourself? Besides, think of the cold!’

“‘Shirt and cap?’ ses Ginger, staring at ’im.

“‘He made ’imself a skirt out of tater-sack this morning,’ ses the young chap. ‘It’s a tight fit—still, it’s better than nothing.’

“‘All right,’ ses Ginger, arter a few words on the quiet with Peter Russet, ‘we’ll come with you and see wot can be done. Where is he?’

“‘Find out,’ ses the chap. ‘Why don’t you give me the money same as your pal tells you to? Wot are you wasting time like this for? It’s ’is money. He ’asn’t ’ad nothing to eat since yesterday arternoon. D’you want ’im to starve?’

“Ginger led Peter away again.

“‘We’ll lay low and foller ’im ’ome,’ he ses, in a whisper.

“‘Wot about brekfuss?’ ses Peter. ‘I want mine something cruel.’

“‘Plenty o’ time,’ ses Ginger. ‘Think o’ pore Sam; nothing to eat since yesterday arternoon.’

“He turned back to the young man, wot was doing a double-shuffle on the pavement and looking up at the chimbley-pots.

“‘Why don’t you tell us where ’e is?’ he ses, in a sharp voice.

“‘Fancy,’ ses the chap, lighting another fag.

“‘You won’t get no five pounds out o’ me,’ ses Ginger, ‘Come along, Peter; we’ll go back indoors and wait for Sam to come ’ome. You go and tell ’im wot I said,’ he ses, turning to the chap.

“‘Right-o,’ ses the young feller, turning away. ‘So long!’

“They stood peeping out of the doorway till he ’ad turned the corner, and then they set off arter ’im. It was easy work in a way, ’cos he never looked behind ’im; but ’e seemed to be fonder o’ walking than wot they was, and besides, as Peter said, no doubt he had ’ad a good brekfuss afore ’e started.

“‘P’r’aps he ain’t going ’ome,’ ses Ginger, looking puzzled. ‘This is the third time he ’as been in the Minories.’

“They followed ’im into Tower Street—it was on’y the second time they ’ad been there—and then to their thankfulness he turned into a pub. They went in too—into another bar—and Ginger ’ad just ordered two pints in a whisper, and paid for ’em, when the chap finished his beer and walked out. Pore Ginger didn’t even ’ave time to taste ’is, and the one mouthful Peter ’ad time to take went the wrong way. It was a big mouthful, and for a couple o’ minutes he thought it was ’is last. Then he got ’is breath back, and, arter asking the landlord whether he thought ’e was beating carpets, went out to look for Ginger. He caught ’im up arter a time, and they went on walking till they felt ready to drop.

“‘I believe ’e knows we are follering ’im,’ ses Peter.

“They went on for another ’arf hour, and then to Peter’s joy they saw the chap, arter standing a long time looking at the things in a cook-shop winder, go inside.

“‘He’s going to ’ave his dinner,’ he ses, ‘and while he’s ’aving it we’ll go and ’ave some bread and cheese and beer.’

“‘And suppose he slips out while we’re away?’ ses Ginger.

“‘Well, we’ll go one at a time,’ ses Peter.

“‘No, we won’t,’ ses Ginger. ‘I ain’t going to lose ’im arter all this trouble, and when we do find out where ’e lives I might want your help.’

“They stood outside waiting for over a hour, and then the young feller came out wiping his mouth on the back of his ’and. He stood for a moment looking up and down the street till ’is eyes fell on Ginger, wot was trying to get behind Peter, and Peter wot was trying to get behind Ginger.

“‘’Ullo,’ he ses, coming up. ‘Fancy dropping acrost you agin like this! ’Ave you been ’aving a little walk to stretch your legs?’

“‘Yes; and we ain’t finished yet,’ ses Ginger very fierce.

“‘I’ll come with you, if you like,’ ses the chap. ‘I ain’t proud.’

“‘When we want your company we’ll ask you for it,’ ses Peter.

“‘Don’t get cross,’ ses the young feller, pretending to shiver. ‘’Cos if you do I might get frightened and run. Last time I was frightened by a ugly face I run three miles without stopping.’

“He lit a fag and stood there with ’is eyes ’arf closed, blowing smoke through ’is nose. Peter and Ginger stood there, waiting while ’e smoked two of ’em, and then waited outside a tobacco-shop while ’e went in to buy another packet. He got larky arter coming out, and when ’e tried to strike a match on Ginger’s trowsis people ’ad to step off the pavement ’cos Ginger was using it all.

“He moved off with Peter as he saw a policeman coming along, and then to their surprise they found that the young feller was following them. It upset their ideas altogether, and all of a sudden Ginger stopped and turned on ’im.

“‘Why don’t you go ’ome?’ he ses.

“‘Wot’s the good without the money?’ ses the chap. ‘Wot’s the good of going back and telling a starving old man in a tater-sack that his pals won’t ’elp ’im?’

“‘Why can’t we take it to ’im?’ ses Peter.

“‘He wouldn’t like it,’ ses the chap. ‘He said so. Besides, when you got there you might try and get ’im out without paying.’

“‘Well, we’ll give you the money now, and then come with you,’ ses Ginger.

“‘Why couldn’t you say so afore?’ ses the other. ‘’Ere we’ve been wasting the whole morning for nothing.’

“They all went into a pub and arter Ginger and Peter ’ad ’ad a pint or two, and a crust o’ bread and cheese, Ginger handed over the money and they all went out together, with the young man in the middle. Ginger’s opinion of ’im went up as they walked along, and, when he led ’em into another pub a little further on, and asked ’em wot they would ’ave, he got to feel quite a liking for ’im.

“They ’ad a pint each, and, while Peter was resting ’arf-way through his, the young man thought ’e saw a spider drop into it. Ginger ’elped Peter to look for it, but they couldn’t find it, and arter that they wasted a lot of time looking for the young man, but they couldn’t find ’im neither.

“‘If you’d kept your eye on ’im instead o’ fishing round in my beer with your dirty finger, it ’ud ha’ been better,’ ses Peter.

“They walked ’ome, quarrelling all the way, and then they sat indoors all the evening waiting for Sam to turn up so as they could tell ’im wot they thought of ’im.

“They sat there till eleven o’clock, and then they went to bed wondering wot had ’appened to ’im; and when they got up next morning Ginger said he ’ad a feeling that they should never see ’im again.

“‘He’s gorn where we’ve all got to go,’ he ses, shaking his ’ead.

“‘Unless we join the Salvation Army,’ ses Peter. ‘There’s plenty o’ time afore we get to his age.’

“‘He’s been made away with, that’s my opinion,’ ses Ginger. ‘We shall never see ’im agin, any more than we shall see that monkey-faced chap that gave us the slip yesterday.’

“They went downstairs to go out and get some brekfuss, and the very fust thing they saw was the young feller, leaning up agin the wall, smoking a fag.

“‘’Ullo!’ he ses. ‘Did you find the spider?’

“Ginger couldn’t answer ’im for a minute. He stood there staring at him as if he was a ghost.

“‘Wot did you run off for?’ he ses, at last, growling at ’im.

“‘Me?’ ses the other. ‘I didn’t run off. But I thought that if pore old Sam ’ad to wait till you found that spider he’d never get ’is money.’

“‘Is he alive?’ ses Peter.

“‘Alive?’ ses the young feller. ‘I on’y ’ope I shall be ’arf as lively at ’is age as wot he is. I’ve got another letter for you.’

“He fished it out of ’is pocket and handed it to Ginger, and then stood sucking his teeth and looking at the winder opposite while Ginger read it.

“It was a longer letter than the other. One thing was Sam called ’imself a silly fool two or three times over ’cos he ’ad gambled away the five pounds. He wanted Ginger to send ’im the other three, and said as ’ow he had ’ad awful bad luck, and never wanted to see a card agin as long as ’e lived. He told Ginger to give the other three pounds to ’is friend Sid, wot took the five pounds, and said if they followed ’im again he would never forgive ’im.

“‘Fair old cough-drop, ain’t he?’ ses the young feller.

“‘He’s fell into bad ’ands,’ ses Ginger, glaring at ’im.

“‘That’s right,’ ses Sid, ‘and we’ve got to get ’im out. You find the ready, and I’ll do the rest.’

“Ginger read the letter agin, arter Peter ’ad done with it, and then ’e told the chap to wait while he went indoors for the money. Wot ’e really went indoors for was to tell the land-lady’s gal, a smart little kid of eleven, as ’ad two bilious attacks a week reg’lar to stay at ’ome and ’elp ’er mother, to foller Mr. Sid ’ome.

“‘Here’s the three quid,’ ’e ses, coming out. ‘Take it and go.’

“‘And let’s ’ope he won’t lose that,’ ses Sid. ‘Are you coming to see me as far as the—I mean, as far as you can?’

“‘I am not,’ ses Ginger.

“‘Ah, well, I don’t blame you,’ ses Sid. ‘It’s a waste of your time and mine too, ain’t it? The last chap that tried to foller me ’ome seemed to think I lived in the canal. I never see a chap make ’imself so wet.’

“He gave Peter a playful little tap in the stummick, and, arter asking Ginger for a lock of ’is ’air to frighten the gals with, went off whistling. And he had ’ardly turned the corner afore the little gal was arter ’im.

“By the time Peter and Ginger was back from their brekfuss she was ’ome agin, ’aving follered the young man to his ’ouse, and seen ’im go inside. He didn’t seem to ’ave any idea that ’e was being follered; and Ginger was so pleased with ’imself and ’is cleverness that Peter ’ad to remind ’im of all sorts of things he didn’t want to be reminded of.

“They waited in for some time to see if Sam came ’ome, but there was no sign of ’im, and Ginger began to wonder whether he ’ad lost the three quid as well as the five.

“‘We’ll give ’im till eight o’clock,’ he ses. ‘And if he ain’t ’ome by then we’ll go round and fetch ’im.’

“‘It’s my belief they won’t let ’im go,’ ses Peter.

“‘Or p’r’aps he’s lost ’is trowsis agin,’ ses Ginger. ‘We’ll take his other pair with us in case. And we’ll get one or two to come with us to see fair play.’

“They picked up a couple o’ firemen they knew, that arternoon. Stiff-built chaps they was, and always ready for a bit of trouble, ’aving both ’ad Irish mothers. They ’ad a few drinks to steady themselves, and then one of ’em, Bob Mills by name, got so upset because Ginger said he thought it ’ud be better not to burn the ’ouse down, that it took three men and the landlord to get ’im outside.

“They went ’ome fust to see whether Sam ’ad turned up, and then, arter waking Bob, who ’ad gorn to sleep in Peter’s bed, they set off to find ’im. It was a tall, dirty house, just off the ’Ighway, and Ginger began to think that if they got Sam out in one piece they’d be lucky. The front-door was open and a lot o’ dirty-looking kids was playing on the steps.

“‘It’s like a bee-hive,’ ses Peter. ‘He’ll take some finding.’

“‘I’ll find ’im,’ ses Bob, spitting on ’is hands. ‘Come along.’

He led them up the steps and opened the fust door ’e come to as bold as brass, and popped his ’ead in.

“‘Where’s old Sam?’ he ses, to a woman wot left off washing ’er baby to stare at ’im. ‘Wot ’ave you done with ’im?’

“‘WHERE’S OLD SAM?’ HE SES, TO A WOMAN WOT LEFT OFF WASHING ’ER BABY TO STARE AT ’IM. ‘WOT ’AVE YOU DONE WITH ’IM?’”

“‘Wot?’ ses the woman.

“‘We want Mr. Sam Small,’ ses Ginger, putting ’is head over Bob’s shoulders.

“‘Wot ’ave you done with ’im?’ ses Bob agin.

“‘Me?’ ses the woman. ‘Wot are you talking about? ’Ow dare you come shoving your ugly mug into a lady’s room and try and take away ’er character? Wot d’ye mean by it?’

“She put the baby down on the floor very careful and took up the basin o’ water. It was a small basin, but the water showed that the baby ’adn’t been washed afore it wanted it, and Bob Mills was out o’ that room afore you could say ‘knife.’

“‘He ain’t there,’ he ses, as the door banged be’ind ’im. ‘It’s a funny thing a woman can never answer a civil question without losing ’er temper. If I ’adn’t kept my eye on ’er I should have ’ad that water over me.’

“‘They don’t use their reason,’ ses Ginger, shaking his ’ead, and stopping at the next door to let ’im go in fust.

“There was nobody in that room except a little gal of ten putting ’er little brothers to bed, and the way she carried on when Bob looked in would ha’ done credit to a woman of seventy. He came out gasping for breath.

“‘I’ll find ’im though,’ he ses to Ginger. ‘I’ll find ’im, if I ’ave to take all the boards up. Now wot about trying upstairs?’

“There was two families in the fust room they went in, and they was both worse than each other. People came out of their rooms to listen, and the way they carried on when Ginger and ’is pals paid them a visit won’t bear repeating. By the time they ’ad got to the second floor the whole ’ouse was roused and standing behind and offering to fight ’em.

“Bob and ’is pal went into the fust room on that floor alone, ’cos Ginger and Peter ’ad to stay outside on the landing to keep the crowd back. ’Ard work it was, too; one young woman trying to bore holes in Peter with a broom-’andle, while a dirty hand with a wedding-ring on it kept coming out of the crowd and pinching pore Ginger black and blue.

“In the middle of it there was a hullabaloo in that room that made ’em all leave off to listen. Deafening it was. People shouting and struggling and things toppling about all over the place. Then Bob and ’is mate came out carrying something that looked like a mad lion wrapped up in a blanket.

“‘He was in bed, asleep,’ ses Bob, panting, as a couple o’ naked legs shot out and kicked anything they could find. ‘Pull your end o’ the blanket down, Joe.’

“‘Wot’s he done?’ ses a woman, gaping at them.

“‘Wot ’ave you done, you mean,’ ses Bob, struggling. ‘He’s been kidnapped.’

“‘And robbed,’ ses Ginger, shouting with pain, as ’e got another pinch.

“‘It’s all right, Sam, old man,’ ses Peter, pulling back the blanket to give ’im a little air. ‘Now—Lor’ lumme this ain’t Sam!’

“They all started, and Bob was so surprised that he let go of ’is end. It was the ’ead end and the langwidge the old man it belonged to used was awful. Then ’e got up very slow, and, arter feeling his ’ead and using some more langwidge about a bump ’e found there, knocked Bob down.

“In two twos they was all at it; the men fighting and the women screaming. Men Ginger hadn’t seen afore seemed to turn up from nowhere to punch ’im. The four of ’em kept together as well as they could, and even when Ginger got to the bottom of the stairs ’e found the other three on top of ’im. They got outside at last, helped be’ind by the people in the ’ouse, and didn’t stop for breath till they was two streets away. Bob Mills found ’is fust, and pretty near got run in for it.

“‘I ought to take you by rights,’ ses the policeman. ‘Wot ’ave you been doing to your face? Treading on it?’

“Bob was going to answer ’im, but Ginger got ’is ’and over ’is mouth just in time.

“‘It’s all right, sir, he ses, very perlite, ‘he’s on’y a little bit excited. Come on, Bob.’

“They managed to get ’im round the corner, and then ’e shook ’em off and said he never wanted to see ’em agin. He went off with ’is mate, and Peter and Ginger, arter being refused at three pubs because of their looks, sent a young feller in for a bottle o’ whisky to take ’ome with them.

“They ’ad a drop or two when they got indoors, and then they got a bit o’ rag and some cold water and began to see wot they could do for their faces.

“‘And this is all through Sam,’ ses Ginger, starting to grind ’is teeth and then finding they was too loose to grind.

“‘It’s a mystery,’ ses Peter, who was sitting on Sam’s bed ’olding a wet rag to his eye. ‘I believe you was right, Ginger. Something seems to tell me we shall never see ’im agin.’

“Ginger said he didn’t want to. His mouth was so sore ’e couldn’t smoke, and arter another drop or two o’ whisky, ’e said ’e was going to bed.

“He undressed ’imself very slow, grunting and groaning all the time, and was just getting into bed when Peter ’eld up ’is ’and.

“‘Somebody’s coming upstairs,’ he ses.

“‘Let ’em come,’ ses Ginger, very grumpy.

“‘It—it can’t be Sam!’ ses Peter.

“‘Sounds like ’im,’ ses Ginger, staring. It is ’im,’ he ses, as they both ’eard a noise that Sam used to make when ’e thought ’e was singing.

“They stood staring at the door as it opened and Sam came into the room, looking very bright and pleased with ’imself.

“SAM CAME INTO THE ROOM LOOKING VERY BRIGHT AND PLEASED WITH ’IMSELF.”

“‘’Ullo, mates!’ he ses. ‘Why—wot the—Wot ’ave you been doing to yourselves?’

“He shook his ’ead, and screwed up ’is lips at ’em.

“‘It’s a funny thing I can’t go away for a day or two without you getting into trouble,’ he ses. ‘’Tain’t respectable.’

“‘Ho!’ ses Ginger, finding ’is voice. ‘Ho, indeed. This is all the thanks we get for trying to ’elp you, is it? I s’pose you think it’s more respectable to lose your trowsis at cards and play in your shirt.’

“‘And a tater-sack,’ ses Peter.

“‘Trowsis!’ ses Sam, staring at ’em, ‘tater-sack! ’Ave you been drinking? or wot?’

“Ginger looked at Peter and then ’e looked very ’ard at Sam.

“‘Where—’ave—you—been?’ he ses, very slow and distinct.

“‘Been staying with a chap at Stratford,’ ses Sam, ’elping ’imself to a drink. ‘My friend Sid told me as he’d ’eard the police was arter me for gambling, so I’ve been staying with a pal of ’is for a few days to let it blow over.’

“‘And—and didn’t you write to us?’ ses Ginger, as soon as he could speak.

“‘Why, wot should I want to write to you for?’ ses Sam, putting down ’is glass.

“‘Money,’ ses Ginger, looking ’im straight in the eye.

“Sam shook his ’ead, ‘I ’ad enough on me,’ he ses, ‘but it was just as well I left that eight quid with you, Ginger. It might ’ave gorn if I ’adn’t. Wot was it you was saying about trowsis and tater-sacks, Peter?’

“‘It’s a joke of your friend, Sid’s,’ ses Ginger. ‘Ask him to tell it to you; you seem to tell ’im everything.’

“Him and Peter woke up at five o’clock next morning to go and look for fresh lodgings. Sam didn’t wake up till eight, and then, arter reading a couple o’ letters ’e found tucked under ’is chin, he went off without any brekfuss to look for Ginger and Peter, and Sid, and eight quid.”